Death Note: The Seven
by Scorpionida
Summary: Kira, in his hubris, started a war. Mello, in his rage, intends to end it. The next pawns have been chosen and the fighting begins anew.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: Just a quick list of disclaimers and credits.  
Death Note does not belong to me.  
All OCs are either owned by me or co-owned with my amazing editor, Brat.  
These are characters, not real people, and their names were mainly gotten from random name generators. If you share a name with a character that gets brutally murdered, my apologies in advance.  
Again, these are characters, not real people, and their opinions and views are not my own nor ones shared by my editor. If a character offends you, remember that they may or may not get brutally murdered at a later time and thus receive some form of karmic justice from that.  
There is brutal murder in this story, including and not limited to, heart attacks, stabbings, and the occasional bullet to the head. The faint of heart have been warned.

* * *

Chapter 1 – Of Espressos and Notebooks

J enjoyed the pleasant winter air as she walked down the street. It was nice to be able to take her mind off the case she had been working on for the past few weeks. Walking into Starbucks, she took in the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and baking pastries. J prepared to get in line with the morning crowd waiting for the day to start. To her surprise, one of the baristas waved her over. Singled out so suddenly, J hesitated before walking up to the counter. The barista greeted her enthusiastically, "Good morning, Ms. Costa. One doppio espresso con panna and a chocolate croissant, right?"

The food was already on the counter, the espresso still gently steaming. J did not know what to think about the situation, opting for a quiet, "Thank you."

She reached into her purse to pull out her credit card but the barista shook her head. "No need. It's on the house."

The barista smiled eerily, the sight stirring up memories of long faded nightmares. The happiness on the young woman's face seemed out of place. Not an artificial emotion but there for the wrong reason. Gingerly taking the offered bag and cup, J quickly left Starbucks. The barista called something after her but J could not make it out, nor did she really want to.

Once she was over her initial shock and confusion, J mentally slapped herself for forgetting the barista's name. She had never been good with names, but at least she was good at remembering faces. She thought about the barista, picturing the young woman in her mind. She had an oval shaped face, a clear peach completion, dirty blonde hair verging on ash, and round blue eyes.

Suddenly a teenager crashed into her. Her coffee flew out of her hand, splashing all over the ground. J turned to yell at the teenager but he had already disappeared into the crowd gathered at a street corner.

Muttering angrily to herself, she noticed a red notebook lying on the ground near her spilled coffee. J assumed it belonged to the teenager – as there was no one else nearby to drop it and her sharp eyes had not noticed the bright spot of color before – so she picked it up. If it was important, he would have to track her down and apologize if he wanted it back.

J made it to her office without any further mishaps. Sitting at her desk, she ate her croissant and poured over a stack of case files.

Ten deaths in just eight days, yet not a single lead had been found. It was times like these that J doubted either her skill as a detective or the case itself. This time she was leaning more towards the case.

Four weeks ago, Carl Green died in his downtown Houston apartment of cardiac arrest. The following day, Mary and Candace Kramer died in their dorm at Rice University, also of cardiac arrest. Two days later, Cindy Bell suffered from cardiac arrest and died in her office in a branch of the Wells Fargo bank. Toby Hopson, Erica Hunt, and Steward Voss died the next day in their homes, all of cardiac arrest. On the eighth day, Albert Garner, Michael Cole, and Rosanna Madison died while at work or home, of - you guessed it - cardiac arrest, yet again.

The common cause of death was the only thing that linked all of the victims together. Their families insisted that it had to be murder because of this. Needing the money, J accepted the case. Now she regretted it. It was going to be another long day. Her office was too small to fit all of the families so they had all agreed to meet at a hotel that was conveniently within walking distance from J's office. It was still a rather long walk and the crowds at the street corners slowed her down enough to make her late for the meeting.

Carl Green's family seemed to be the most vehement about the murder theory. They insisted that one if the tenants of the apartment building Green owned had either killed him or hired someone to do it. J tried to calmly point out the flaws in that argument but made little headway. At one point Green's widow broke in hysterics and started shouting that J herself was the killer. The parents of the Kramer sisters were also rather forceful about the murder theory but were much calmer about it. They reasoned their "brilliant and beautiful" daughters were killed by some jealous classmates.

The other families had been dragged into the whole conspiracy by the Green and Kramer families and sat around awkwardly. J tried to get as many answers out of the collective group as she could.

Did any of the victims know each other, beside the obvious? Who would want to kill any of the deceased and due to what motive? Did the deceased have any significant mutual friends or enemies? Had the deceased committed any crimes creating the possibility for vigilantism?

To J's surprise, the last question created the most answers. All of the victims did have criminal records to some extent, mainly minor things like traffic violations or public intoxication. Most notably though, was that Albert Garner had spent some time in jail for assault and Michael Cole had done time for manslaughter. In law, those crimes were severe but nothing to warrant capital punishment.

No further breakthroughs were made during the rest of the meeting. J was satisfied with the one though, and hoped the toxicology reports on the deceased were waiting at her office when she got back. If the source of the heart attacks could be found, then actual progress could be made.

J found the door already unlocked when she arrived back at her office. She shoved the key in her hand back into her pocket and took out a can of mace. Opening the door, J flicked on the lights and walked down the short entrance hall, past the stairs that lead to her small flat above. The intruder was waiting for her in the office, lounging in the guest chair with his feet propped up on her desk.

Shifting her stance, J hissed, "I'll give you ten seconds to turn around and explain what you're doing here or I'm spraying you with mace and calling the cops."

The intruder turned to look at her. Even in the gloom, she could recognize him as the teenager that had run into her that morning. The young man gave her a lopsided grin. "No need for any of that. I just want to talk."

J raised the can of mace. "BS. Give me the _real_ reason."

"That _is_ the real reason. You weren't here so I invited myself inside. Gets cold at night."

Keeping the mace level with the intruder's face, J asked, "What do you want to talk about?"

The teenager's grin widened, almost unnaturally so. "Now we're getting somewhere. It's about my note you see. You found it so it should rightfully be yours. The finer details of the arrangement just need to be clarified now."

The teenager tossed J the notebook and she deftly caught it. Spidery handwriting scrawled across the cover. The silver ink spelt outs the words "Death Note". Tracing the letters with the tip of a finger, she recalled her high school obsession; a murderous notebook, a wannabe god, and the greatest detective of the century.

Nodding slowly, J tried to make sense of the situation, "Right now I see three possibilities. One, you are mentally disturbed and I should be calling the men in white coats. Two, you are a hallucination caused by sleep deprivation. Three, this is happening and I am honestly holding a notebook that can kill in my hand. Please tell me it is not the third option."

"It is. Want the power to become a god?"

"No." The response was automatic, long ago ingrained into her mind. J looked down at the notebook clenched in her hand. "I'm no killer, and I'm not righteous. I became a detective for a reason and that was to stop the psychos that would answer yes to that question."

The teenager stood, his grin turning into a satisfied smile. "I was hoping you would say that." Offering a hand to her, he asked, "Want to become a god-slayer then?"

J put the mace back into her purse and glanced at the Death Note. Now she was remembering more about the manga she had loved so much as a teenager. Odds were she would die in the next couple of years, if not within the week if she was outmatched. Might as a well go out with a bang. She took the hand. "That, I can do."

"We have a deal, then."

The teenager stepped into the light and J watched his appearance change. The skin on the left side of his face faded, revealing the polished white bone underneath. His clothes rippled, tearing and reforming into a rather fluffy black jacket and a tight pair of leather pants. A name popped into J's head and she blurted out, "Mello."

The Shinigami laughed and said, "You're good."

J flicked on her desk lamp and sat in her chair. Mello resumed lounging in the seat across from her. Leafing through the empty pages of the note, she asked, "How were you able to do that earlier? You know, look like your old self?"

Mello shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets. "While notes are on Earth but unclaimed, an appropriately ranked owner can take human form if they remember what they used to look like when they were mortal. It is normally to retrieve it or in my case, to scout out an appropriate choice for a human owner. I can't have another 'god of the new world' on my hands, now can I?"

J opened a drawer in her desk and shuffled through it as the Shinigami watched with a slight look of amusement. She found what she was looking for at the very bottom. It was "Death Note Volume 13: How to Read". Mello raised his single eyebrow in surprise. "You're a bit of a fan."

Lost in thought, J muttered, "I got this when I was in high school. I haven't touched this thing in years. I put it there for inspiration when I first opened my agency, for fun mainly. A bit serious too, I guess. Lost the name card, though. Still pissed about that."

Mello stood. "Well, get some rest. I have stuff to do, but I'll be back in the morning."

Walking through a wall, Mello disappeared into the night. J turned off her desk lamp and closed the drawer. Still carrying Volume 13 and the note, she locked her door and went upstairs to her flat. Lying in bed, J poured over Volume 13, refreshing her memories of the Kira case and memorizing every weakness and rule she could. Walking over to her closet, J entered it and moved some old jackets aside. It wasn't there in the pocket of her fluffy black jacket where it should have been. J looked through some boxes, still unpacked from her move and found one labeled Wells.

Her high school box was filled with science fair trophies and debate team metals. Moving her letterman jacket to the side, she uncovered her anime club stuff. In the smaller box was her Death Note Manga set, a strawberry jam jar with a pair of fake eyeballs in it, and a string of red and white rosary beads. Taking the "How to Use It" guide out of the box, J returned to her bed, kicking off her shoes halfway there. She fell asleep reading the "How to Use It" guide with her note on the bedside table.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 – Of Rude Awakenings and Secret Bases

Nine hours later, J woke to a Shinigami poking her in the ribs. "You're sleeping too much. We have a murder case to solve."

Groggily, J batted Mello's hand away and mumbled, "Five more minutes."

Mello poked her again. "No. Get up."

J pulled the covers over her head and complained loudly, "But it's Saturday. I catch up on sleep Saturdays."

"And I used to do hits for the mob on Saturdays, but I don't waste time doing that anymore."

Mello tugged on J's arm, pulling her bodily out of bed and sending her crashing to the floor. Rubbing her bruised shoulder, J glared up at him. Her clothes were rumpled from sleeping in them all night. Her cell phone rang in her jeans' pocket. She pulled it out and glanced at the caller I.D. before flicking it open and holding it up to her ear. The voice on the other line sounded excited. "I got her!"

Still half asleep, J mumbled, "Got who?"

The caller babbled on happily. "Madame Boss! I got the Madame Boss! I'm getting promoted for this one for sure."

J rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and replied, "That's great news, Rue. You'll be more helpful than ever over here in the private sector. Did the café help at all?"

"Sure did. Well, I'll call you later once I get my promotion."

Just like that, Rue hung up. Putting her cell on the bedside table next to her note, J pulled herself up. As she walked to the kitchenette, Mello floated beside her. "Who was that?"

J poured herself a glass of orange juice and dug a slice of cold pizza from the back of the fridge before replying, "He's a friend of mine from the HPD. It's nice to have connections to the higher ups. Plus, he's the greatest tracker I've ever met. Give him a name and the last known location and it'll take him ten days tops to get the target."

Eating her breakfast, J read yesterday's comics. She was surprised that it almost felt normal to have Mello in the room with her. The Shinigami's presence did not faze her, despite the implications it held. When J finished her breakfast, Mello asked her, "Why don't you go by Jadine?"

J's reply was curt. "Too distinctive. There are almost a thousand female names starting with the letter J and if my gender is unknown to anyone looking for me, then that number is doubled. Initials are safer."

"Touchy subject much?"

J snorted, not amused by the rhetorical question. She responded with one of her own, "Ya think?"

J walked downstairs with Mello floating along after her. Entering her office, J opened up the case files for all the heart attack victims. J entered the police database via her laptop with the pass code she had gotten from Rue. Inputting the names of all ten of the deceased, J started recording the locations and dates of all the crimes. They were all centered on either the apartment complex that Green owned or the Rice University campus. The dates went back over five years.

Leaning back in her chair, J folded her arms across her chest. "Well, I'd normally call it a day with this part of the case and find the only person with connections to both the apartment building and Rice, but everyone _in_ that apartment has a connection to Rice, one way or another."

Mello leaned over her shoulder and looked at the files. "Really? Why?"

J pulled up a map and pointed out Rice University and Green's apartment building, located right on Sunset Boulevard. "That's the apartment I lived in when I went to Rice. I'll admit that Green was a total creep. Not enough to deserve to die but still a creep. Rent was actually reasonable though."

"Why not make the eye trade and just look at pictures of all the tenants?"

J looked over at Mello and shrugged. "Multiple reasons. One, the killer may not be a tenant there anymore considering one of the crimes took place well over five years ago. Two, it could be a freshman living in the dorms that has a friend that's a tenant. Three, most importantly, if I made the eye trade, would I live long enough to see this case to its end?"

Mello frowned with the right side of his face, the left stuck in an eternally bony grin. "Maybe. We're playing with notes here, and nothing is guaranteed."

"No deal then. I'll not eliminate the choice entirely but right now I need all the time I can get."

She turned back to her work and Mello floated beside her nervously. Tugging at the edge of his jacket, Mello asked, "J, you've read the 'How To Use It' guide, right?"

J nodded and continued searching through the police database, looking for further crime locations. Mello rattled his jawbone to get her full attention and said, "Then you know I'm supposed to prompt you to use your note. If you don't, then I'm supposed to take it back. It's for the best anyways. You'd die normally if you didn't."

"What do you mean by that?" J spun in her chair to face Mello who floated back a couple of feet.

"Well, it's kinda complicated. To live like _this_." Mello gestured to himself. "And cheat death you have to kill someone with your note and not feel any regret about it. It's not that you have to hate the person, but you just have to be content with their death and the fact that you're the one causing it."

J stood abruptly and started to head toward the stairs to her flat. "That's won't be a problem then. The bastard deserves a slow and painful death for what he did."

Mello was intrigued by the venom in J's voice and who this mysterious "bastard" was as he followed close behind her. She reached her bedroom and picked up her note. She opened a drawer in her bedside table and took out an engraved silver pen. The ink of the pen was jade green as J almost lovingly wrote the words in the note.

_Rosario Ferro, Burned. December 19, 2044 is set on fire while passing the New Calvary Cemetery in Los Angeles, California._

J watched as the ink soaked into the page and smiled to herself. Mello leaned over her shoulder and examined the name. "I thought you said you weren't a killer, so if you don't mind me asking-"

He was cut off by J. "I do, actually. My tragic, clichéd background story holds no relevance to the situation at hand, now that this has been taken care of."

J put the note along with the silver pen in the drawer. Her cell phone rang and she glanced at the caller I.D. It was Rue again. She picked it up, expecting to hear what rank he had been promoted to but only got a frantic stream of words. "Turn the T.V. on to Channel 2, Nova Local. You have to see this."

Grabbing the remote from its place beside the lamp, J turned the T.V. on. It was already tuned to Chanel 2, and she saw immediately why Rue had called.

The only image on the screen was a black Old English Script "S" that was superimposed over a white background. A heavily edited voice sounded over the speakers. "I am surprised that no one has taken notice of the beginnings of my purge. The wicked shall be erased from the face of the earth by my hand. I suggest you all turn to Channel 5."

J flipped to the channel in time to see the news anchor collapse, face pale and gasping for breath. Then he was still, a look of panic and horror etched on his face. She went back to Channel 2 where the voice was quieted for a few moments before breaking the silence, "Now go to Channel 7."

Going to the channel, J watched the weatherman collapse just as the news anchor had. She herself out of the shock as she returned to Channel 2 and asked, "Rue, is it possible to trace the announcement?"

"We're trying. The FBI is already crawling all over the place and Interpol is even going to get involved at this rate. I'll get you signed up as a civilian consultant."

The electronic voice continued. "Both of those men were suspected of murder but got off easily due to lack of evidence. Is it not wrong that the guilty may walk free? This is a travesty of justice that I shall correct. I invite you to join me, to do the right thing. I am justice. I am S-Kira."

The feed cut off and left only crackling static and white noise. J looked up at Mello, who just shrugged. Rue broke the silence by saying, "I'll have someone pick you up. We'll need you for this one."

Rue hung up and J just sat, completely in shock. Mello finally snapped her out of it, saying, "Go get dressed and find somewhere to hide your note before anyone shows up."

J nodded and did as instructed, still deep in thought as she carefully tucked a piece of the note into the white gold locket she wore around her neck. Half an hour later, a car pulled up to her office. Recognizing the driver's face as one of the cops that regularly worked with Rue, J hopped in with her laptop bag slung over her shoulder. They sped off but quickly ran into a wall of traffic. It seemed people were starting to panic. Anyone in their right mind would have after the message that had aired.

J worked in the back of the car, laptop perched on her knees. Mello's reflection was visible in the window's glare. He walked across the tops of cars in the near standstill traffic to keep up with J. The Shinigami was visibly bored, hands shoved in his pockets and casting the occasional baleful glance in her direction. Even if he said something to J, she could not reply to it.

Almost two hours later, they arrived at one of the many nondescript bases scattered around the city. With criminal activities becoming more and more underground, the law enforcement had to follow it in. They had caught many gang members and drug dealers by simply having them walk into supposedly abandoned building to make a deal and finding the decay was just a front to a high tech underground lair. J envied the bases and enjoyed using Rue as an excuse to get into them.

The building was a mass of activity, like a yellow jacket nest that had been pegged with a rock. Laptop bag swinging at her side, J wove through the crowd. She spotted Rue's mass of spiky, mouse brown hair and made her way over to him. Dark circles rung his pale grey eyes. He offered a tired smile and said, "Welcome to the chaos. I'll get some coffee and we can go over the case files."

J made her way over to Rue's office and set her laptop on his desk. Hooking up the small computer to the monitors in the room, she opened the documents needed and started placing them in the open windows. Rue placed a Styrofoam coffee cup beside her before returning to work. She took a grateful sip and continued going through the necessary files. Maps of the victims' homes, their work places, and their schools were overlaid with the crime locations. Their profiles appeared on the screens. Lastly, she pulled up the information she had gathered about the two news anchors that had just been killed.

A secretary walked into the room and handed a phone to Rue. He put it on speaker and a masculine voice crackled over the line. "Mr. Ryuzaki, we are going to send an Interpol agent over to help with the investigation. Is there anyone you would like to work with specifically?"

An excited voice sounded in the background of the caller's line. "Pick me! Pick me!"

Rue chuckled, a rather forced sound to J's well trained ears. His happiness was genuine, though, as he said, "The enthusiastic one, please."

"Good luck with her, as always, Mr. Ryuzaki."

J looked over at Rue and asked, "Is that who I think it is?"

He nodded and she grinned.

The two investigators resumed their work after the brief interruption, uploading the files to the local system to cross check it with other's works. The families of the victims were all being contacted. Most had left the city in yesterday's panicked rush. Those that remained were reluctant to leave their houses.

J and Rue worked long into the night, fueled with caffeine, sugar, and adrenaline, with Mello by her side.

* * *

Author's Note:  
And with that, the antagonist has been introduced.

PS: Nicole, I know you're Temeraire101. Stop breaking the fourth wall, please. You haven't even been introduced yet!


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note: I am so sorry for the crazy long wait. So, without any further delays, here is chapter 3.

Copyright Disclaimer: Death Note and all of its characters do not belong to me, etc.

* * *

Chapter 3 – Of Glomping and Heart Attacks

J dozed in the chair happily. There was nothing going on at the moment, now that the waiting games had started. Agents had been mobilized and were gathering up the families of the victims, along with tracking the three thousand odd students that attended Rice University. People were still frightened, but back home after yesterday's mass hysteria. J had nothing to do at the moment.

The sound of flats clicking against tile at high speed alerted J to someone's approach. She lazily opened one green eye and spotted a brunette racing toward her at top speed. She only had time to let out a startled squeak before she was glomped. J hugged the woman back and managed to say, "Hi, Near."

"Mello!"

From his spot among the rafters, Mello twitched at the mention of the names. He leaned over the edge of a beam and looked down at the two women in confusion. The confusion faded quickly and he shouted. "What the Hell, J? Me, really? Of all the characters you could cosplay as, you picked me?"

The women broke down in peals of laughter, J in part from hearing Mello's shouting, the brunette still holding the blonde in a tight grip. After the laughter subsided, J squirmed, trying to wriggle her way out of the rib-crushing embrace. She had little success.

"How have you been, Nicole?"

She released J and pulled up a chair. "I'm doing great, and you?"

"Tired, but okay, other than that."

Their brief conversation was interrupted when Rue walked in while straightening his tie, obviously having just woken up from a nap. "Ladies, we have work to do. Murder-slash-terrorist case to solve and all that jazz."

The two friends reluctantly followed him to the center of the chaotic workplace.

All of the news stations were being monitored carefully. There was no doubt that another announcement would be made; it was only a question of _when_. While they waited, Rue and J discussed obtaining the warrants to search the apartments or at the very least conduct some interviews. Interpol could only do so much, and red tape was starting to weigh down the investigation.

The main T.V. screen suddenly turned black, and white noise blasted through the speakers, drawing everyone's attention. J winced at the harsh sound and glared at the now white screen emblazoned with the familiar Old English S. S-Kira, in their familiar altered voice, began speaking.

"Hello, I hope you all have had a nice day. Did anyone get my presents? I hear the police have gotten involved. Why don't we work together? Don't you want these criminals to be caught?" A note of joy sounded past the artificial tones. S-Kira was honestly happy talking about the deaths of several people while planning many more to come.

J muttered under her breath angrily, "The criminal that needs to be caught is _you_."

As if in reply, the voice said, "I am the messenger. _All_ shall heed my words."

The screen cut back to black. The Nova Local logo returned and the news resumed as if nothing had happened. Nicole looked to Rue and J for answers.

Rue explained, "Small crucifixes have been found on the victims." He shuffled through the stack of files in front of him. "Most were on rosaries so it was dismissed as another possession of the deceased. That can't be the case, though, as family members have not recognized them." He looked up at the screen. "Now it has been confirmed to be the killer's work."

Rue's cell phone rang suddenly. He checked the caller ID before saying, "Man on the field. Get ready to move out."

He answered, listening to the officer on the other line. Frowning, he stood up and took his car keys out of his pocket. J and Nicole stood, nodding their understanding as he hung up.

"We have another victim; Cassidy Germaine. She was just released last week after being held several years for a DUI manslaughter."

The three piled into Rue's car, driving off the second their seatbelts locked into place. The squeal of tires and acrid scent of burning rubber filled the air as they sped down the downtown streets. Compared to the traffic of yesterday, the streets were deserted. It seemed most people were staying indoors, away from the all seeing eyes of S-Kira. The stand of trees in the park had been taped off and J ducked under the lines. Putting on an offered pair of gloves, she knelt down near the body.

Cassidy's skin was pallid and a hand was clutching at her chest. A look of terror was etched onto the young woman's face. She had known that she was going to die. Nicole tucked a loose lock of brown hair behind one ear as she walked over to J. Rue was speaking with the officers already present at the scene, arranging for the victim's family to be contacted and for the body's examination. Two witnesses were being interviewed off to the side. The young man had seen Cassidy's body and his girlfriend had called 911.

J spotted a tiny object in Cassidy's hand. She looked closer and saw that it was a cross. There was still a price tag on it. She tapped Nicole on the shoulder and pointed to the newfound evidence. "There's our 'present' from S-Kira. Just bought it too."

"But from where?"

J tried to think of any shops nearby. She gave up after none came to mind before asking Rue, "Where's the nearest jewelry supply store?"

Rue had grown accustomed to the seemingly random questions J asked over the years he had known her. "There's one about a mile away from here, right off of Westheimer at Sheppard."

"I'll head there while you take care of the red tape. I can walk."

J removed the gloves and ducked under the police lines once more. Rue handed her a photo of Cassidy and said, "Be careful. This might not be LA but it's still a big city."

"Don't worry about me, just clean things up here."

J walked east from Meyer Park, heading along Westheimer. Years ago the city was a massive network of highways and tracks of grass lined by skyscrapers. Now it was concrete, glass and steel twisted into organic forms dotted with precious islands of green. The whole _world_ was like that.

Seeming to appear from nowhere, Mello landed next to J, folding his feathery wings and merging them into his jacket. He gave J a smile as friendly as a Shinigami could and commented, "Case is going well."

"Only because S-Kira is feeding us information." J snapped back, her neutral façade fading.

She shoved her hands in her jeans pockets and stormed down the street. Away from the others, she felt more comfortable with displaying her sour mood.

Mello rolled his single eye, the blue spark in his other, empty eye socket echoing the motion. "Get over it. I chose _you_ for a reason and that was because you have a good head on your shoulders and your contacts are proving increasingly useful." He paused to let the words sink in before continuing, "You have information. Use it. Who cares where it came from?"

J cared. "If I'm always a step behind that doesn't do us any good. A miraculous breakthrough would be nice right about now."

"_Pazienza_! Rome was not built in a day."

J resisted the urge to throw a punch at Mello's shoulder, knowing her fist would probably go right through him and make her look like she was striking thin air. They continued down the street, human and Shinigami walking side by side through downtown Houston. J spotted the sign for Sheppard Drive and turned down the street. There was a strip mall containing the Bead Store. J had been there before. The couple that owned the place was nice enough and the selection was quite good. Most importantly, there was a small corner of the store devoted to supplies for making rosaries.

She entered, the bells on the door jingling merrily. She walked up to the counter and waited for someone to come out and help her. A young woman emerged. Her nametag read "Anna" in big sparkly letters.

J smiled at Anna. "Hi, I was wondering if you might recognize someone that might have stopped by here earlier today."

Holding out the picture of Cassidy Germaine, J waited for a reaction. Anna leaned in closer to get a better look at the photo. "I recognize her. Nervous kinda person, she was. Stopped by here just an hour ago, I'd say. She kept on going on about the S-Kira thing that's happening. Does this have anything to do with that?"

"I'm afraid so." J said with a heavy sigh, "Ms. Germaine had a cross with her. The price tag was still on it. Did she buy it from here?"

Anna pointed to the corner where the rosary making supplies were located. "From right over there. We've been selling a lot of that stuff lately."

"Was anyone with her?"

"No." Anna shook her head. "It was just her."

"Had anyone come in before her that was acting strange?" J waited for her miraculous breakthrough.

It never came. "No. There was a regular that was here this morning but he just came to pick up an order of seed beads like always."

The private investigator let out another sigh. "Well, thank you anyways." She said as she left the store. "It was a pleasure meeting you."

She found a bench a block away and sat down. Mello sat next to her. J tried to organize her thoughts. "So, Cassidy Germaine. She was drunk, struck a pedestrian and killed him. She had no ill intent but just made the wrong choices. Gets released from prison after serving time for manslaughter. That was a week before now. An hour ago, Cassidy comes to the Bead Store, buys a cross, then dies of a heart attack in Meyer Park. Why at the _park_?"

Mello offered no explanation but J got a sneaking suspicion that he knew _far_ more than he was willing to say. She reached into an inner jacket pocket and took out a mini chocolate bar. Mello, spotting the treat, asked, "What do you want to know?"

J was pleased her bribe was working. "I just need something confirmed. What happens if a situation outlined was possible, but becomes _im_possible? Like, if Cassidy had to make it to an address by a certain time but failed to do so because there's no taxi service right now or because she was taking a shortcut and got lost."

Mello had to think about it for a minute. "Then she would have just died of a heart attack by the time written, maybe a little sooner considering how and when it became impossible."

She handed Mello the chocolate. He happily tore off the wrapper and took a small bite, blissfully savoring the flavor he had continued to love through death. Between bites, he said, "You are now _officially _my favorite mortal, J. No one else has ever thought to bribe me with chocolate."

"And you're my favorite Shinigami, Mello."


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Note: Now that NaNoWriMo is over I will hopefully start updating regularly.

Copyright Disclaimer: Death Note and all of its characters do not belong to me and all that jazz.

* * *

Chapter 4 – Of Flirting and Interrogations

J thumbed through the sheets of paper attached to her clipboard. She had already done twenty interviews and every single kid was rich, arrogant, and a genius, considering those were the more or less official requirements of getting into Rice University. If Death Note had taught her anything, any one of the students could have been the next Light Yagami. She had finished her interviews for the floor and started scanning the area for Rue. Spotting him towards the end of the hallway talking with a young man, J walked over to them.

Rue was struggling to maintain his professional airs. "Has anyone been acting suspicious lately?"

"Nope." Said the young man, he leaned in closer to Rue. "Hey, after you're done with this, why don't we go out for some drinks?" A playful smirk danced across his lips.

J suppressed a laugh and added another tally to her mental list. The man reached out as if to grab Rue's shoulder. He swiftly stepped out of range, unable to suppress the glare he shot in the younger man's direction. He finished the interview curtly, saying, "Thank you for your time, sir."

Together, J and Rue started up the stairs to the top floor. Halfway up the stairs, she said, "Thirty-one."

He looked at her with a cocked eyebrow. J explained, "He was a thirty-first guy I've seen hit on you."

He gave an exasperated sigh. "I don't like anyone in _that_ way, male or female. When will people understand that, and save _both_ parties the trouble?"

She laughed at his frustration, and then motioned to the left as they reached the top of the stairs. "I'll take this side. Hopefully Nicole will have the lower floors done by the time we're finished."

J jotted down the apartment number on a blank form and knocked on the door. She listened intently as the tenant stirred. There was the clink of metal on ceramic, possibly a spoon on a coffee cup. The door opened and a lanky, black haired man stood in the doorframe. J plastered a generic smile across her face and said, "Hello, sir. I would like to ask you a few questions; if that would be alright."

"Sure." He regarded J with curious, pale grey eyes.

"Name, please."

"Charlie Robertson."

J jotted down the name and asked, "How long have you been living here and do you have any opinions on the late Mr. Green?"

"For around two years." Charlie mumbled, obviously tired. "Green was rather odd, snooping around in everyone else's business and always asking a few too many personal questions for my taste. His death is tragic nonetheless, leaving behind a wife and daughter like that."

As she scribbled down Charlie's answers, J surreptitiously scanned what she could see of his apartment. The interior was neat but still looked lived in. A few takeout boxes were scattered on the coffee table and dirty clothes were draped across the back of the couch. It was a rather normal apartment for a college student.

J pretended to keep her full attention on Charlie and continued with the interview. "Why did you choose these apartments?"

Charlie leaned against the wall and answered in a bored tone, "They were the cheapest around and I didn't want to actually live on campus. It costs that much more and plus you're watched really closely during class so I can't imagine how bad it is in the dorms." He was growing impatient, tugging at the loose ponytail he kept his hair in. "Is this going to take any longer? I have stuff to do."

"Just one last question." J intentionally took her time jotting down extra notes on Charlie's rather nervous behavior. His body language screamed out his urge to bolt back into his apartment. "Have you noticed any odd activity of late?"

"The girl down the hall, Scarlet." Charlie gestured down the hall. "She's always been a bit of a shut-in but lately she started not coming out at all. We have the same psychology professor and she hasn't shown up to any of her classes since this whole S-Kira business started. I'm actually a little worried about her."

J finished writing her notes and said, "Thank you for your time, sir."

She continued down the hallway. Knocking on the next three doors, J received no replies from any of them. There were no sounds of anyone moving within so she just moved on, scribbling down the numbers for future reference. Not everyone had returned back home after the panic and that could easily be the case with the three absent tenants. It was approaching the winter holidays too and many would be leaving to visit their families. J thought of her father. It had been years since they had spoken face to face and phone calls were few and far between. She made a mental note to call him in time for Christmas.

J reached the fifth and final door of the hallway. These apartments were the most spacious – if you could call any apartment spacious – and ten of them took up the top floor. A young woman with dirty blonde hair answered the door. She regarded J warily with large blue eyes. It took the private investigator a moment but she connected the face with a mental title. It was the creepy, too smiley barista from Starbucks.

She sounded as surprised as J felt. "Ms. Costa?

Recovering quickly from the mild shock, J put on her business face and asked, "Hello, would you mind if I asked a few questions concerning recent events?"

"Not at all." The young woman held the door open wider. "Would you like to come in?"

J shook her head. "There's no need, it won't take long at all."

The young woman's voice dropped to a whisper and she said, "Well, you see, there _is_ something a little more private that I want to ask about; something too delicate for police interference."

"As you should be well aware of, my dear, I am currently working on the S-Kira case and thus do not have much in the way of free time and I spend that asleep generally."

"Please. I can't turn anywhere else." There was a genuine note of desperation in the young woman's voice.

J nodded, sighing as she gave in. "No guarantees."

J followed the young woman into the apartment. She motioned to the couch and said, "I'll go grab some tea. My name is Scarlet Clark in case you needed to know."

J wrote down the name as Scarlet went to get the promised tea. The two way communicator hidden in J's ear came to life with a small pop and Rue's frustrated voice whispered over the line, "What are you doing?"

She whispered back as softly as she could, "She needs a PI for something. No cops."

J could practically feel Rue's disapproval from all the way down the hall. He never liked it when she did any work specifically excluding cops considering it was often family work then. J turned the communicator off with a casual flick of the wrist, the motion disguised by tucking a lock of blonde hair behind her ear. Now that she could concentrate without Rue's distractions, she examined the apartment.

Everything was pristine white, flat beige, or pale blue spotted with sage green. Saying the apartment was merely neat was an understatement. Everything was put in its proper place with no room for unsightly gaps and not a spot of dirt or speck of dust could be seen. There were photos everywhere of a man, face lined equally with laugh and worry lines. J wondered who he was. His hair matched Scarlet's rather well, a little lighter to match the darker tan of his skin, so perhaps he was a cousin or even a brother.

Scarlet returned, carrying a tea tray. J accepted the cup offered to her and sipped it politely. The tea matched the apartment; unnaturally perfect for a woman Scarlet's age (she guessed the young woman was only around nineteen or twenty at the most).

J decided to get the case interview over with so Rue would not be too mad. "How long have you been living here and do you have any opinions on the late Mr. Green?"

"Over six years." Scarlet wrapped her long fingered hands around the tea cup. "As far as Green goes, he was a rather detestable man. It is almost a relief he is gone."

J nodded in sympathy and said, "I used to live here and moved out as soon as I could. I managed to crash the security system before I left though." She smiled at the fond memory. "That was fun." She got herself back on track before she digressed further. "Anyways, why did you choose these apartments?"

"Like everyone else, cheapest ones around."

J's pen scratched against the paper as she scribbled furiously. At times she was surprised she could read her own handwriting. She jotted down a few extra notes and said, "One last question; have you noticed any suspicious activity of late?"

"No." It was an honest answer, but rather curt.

J knew there was more information there, but there always was behind every word anyone said. She finished writing and set the clipboard to the side, careful not to disrupt the perfect order of things. "So, what do you need help with?"

Scarlet licked her lips nervously and said, "It's my brother. He died over five years ago."

J tried to remain as professional as she could. She did not need any pointless cases weighing her down at the moment and was hesitant to start anything new. "My condolences about your brother, but I fail to see what I can do unless there was any foul play involved. It is a cold case no matter what due to the age."

"It was cancer so I don't think there was any of that. Could you look into what he was doing for the past year or so before he passed? I can pay you."

"I'm extremely busy at the moment as you can probably tell." J set down the tea cup and laced her fingers together. "I can recommend other investigators but personally I cannot do anything for you."

Scarlet stared at the blonde with watery blue eyes. "Please, I've tried others but they've all turned me down."

J stood, clipboard in hand. She chose her words carefully. "I will contact you if I can find the time." She paused then asked, "How does lunch at Jimmy's Café tomorrow sound?"

As she started to leave, Scarlet called after her, "That sounds great. His name was Jackson."


	5. Chapter 5

Author's Note: And the tale continues, almost on time for once.

Copyright Disclaimer: Death Note and all of its characters do not belong to me, etc.

* * *

Chapter 5 – Of Family and Chocolate

"_Salve_, daddy."

"_Cara mia_, it is wonderful to hear from you." J's father, Niccolo, replied. "But why are you calling at four in the morning?"

J spun her chair in lazy circles. "I only have the time now. You've heard of the whole S-Kira business, right?"

"There isn't a soul that hasn't. Are you at least distracting the FBI?"

She laughed. "As always. Interpol, too."

A comfortable silence fell between the two. J broke it by saying, "You should come visit ones of these days. Maybe once I'm finished with this case."

"I should." A note of concern entered Niccolo's voice. "How are you holding up, Jade?"

She replied honestly. "I live. There's not much more I can do."

"I have some good news. Guess who got set on fire recently." She could imagine the smug grin on her father's face as he said those words.

J feigned ignorance. "Who?"

"The one bastard that deserves it the most."

She could not help but laugh and say, "Karma is a beautiful thing."

"It's nice to hear you happy for once." Niccolo paused then added, "I love you."

"I love you too, daddy. We should both get some sleep, shouldn't we? Bye."

"Good bye."

J hung up and snapped her cell phone closed. It was nice being able to just hear her father's voice.

She was utterly alone in the main room. Glowing monitors surrounded her, displaying various bits and pieces of the massive puzzle that was the S-Kira case.

Mello walked through a wall and joined J. He sat down in the chair next to her. She spun around to face him and asked, "Where were you earlier?"

"Doing stuff." Mello quickly changed the subject. "Hey, I've been meaning to ask you something. Who's the guy in the photo in your locket?"

J struggled to keep her voice low as it shook with anger. "You _touched_ my locket?"

Mello retreated back a couple of feet and said, "I was just curious. You don't have to answer or anything if you don't want to."

"His name was Johnny." She spoke quickly, lest she linger on the topic for too long. "He was my everything. My best friend, the love of my life, my other half. He's gone now."

The Shinigami looked down at her and rustled his wings, not knowing what to do with himself. After a moment, Mello placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. She gave him a small smile and said, "How about we get some work done? I'm not tired and have enough coffee to power me through another day."

"Let's."

She scrolled through the information stored on the system. She pulled up a series of maps displaying the whole Houston area in minute detail, points of interest scattered across the whole thing. It had taken her all afternoon to put it together. Mello examined the map with interest. "Everything is pretty centralized. What criminals have local news stations been reporting on?"

She pulled up another document. It was a news blurb on Cassidy Germaine. "The dead ones."

"He's being careless this time." Mello glared at the screen, trying to make sense of what it was telling him. "Normally the pattern is far more widespread to prevent the home base from being indentified. Unless we're being given a false lead."

"It's too local." J gestured to the apartment buildings. "Green didn't have a criminal record whatsoever – aside from one account of public intoxication that took serious digging to actually find – just a nasty reputation. Even if it isn't S-Kira there, then a close associate is in those apartments."

"Did the interviews help at least?"

"Not really. There's a bunch of potential crazies there." She leaned back in her chair and spun around a few times in an attempt to stay awake and alert.

Mello stopped J's spinning and pointed to the map centered on the base they were currently in. "Why is it flashing?"

J looked closer. An update was coming in. The whole map rippled across the screen as three more dots appeared. That meant three more deaths.

A communications line opened up and a message appeared on screen.

"Oliver Burns. Gerard Valentine. Catherine Boatwright. Coroners reports will be sent shortly."

J typed back a reply. "Message received. Map updated. News archives being cross checked."

She booted up the required programs and inputted the names of the three newest victims. The map continued to flash and ripple as the virtual pins appeared onscreen. Ten crime locations were added to the growing collection. The locations of homes and workplaces were marked. Lives were drawn out in simple dots.

A new file appeared on screen. J hesitated before clicking on it. She regretted it immediately.

The coroners had spared no expense in taking the high-definition shots of the victims' bodies. Their skin was ashen, stained with rusty streaks of drying blood; and their eyes, their eyes were the worst part. They were bloodshot and seemed to pierce the soul with their baleful gazes. They seemed to blame the viewer as the sole reason for their demise. Numbers had been carved into the flesh of their arms and chests. The official cause of death was not of blood loss – as expected with the extensive lesions across their bodies – but of cardiac arrest.

J grimaced and averted her eyes, mumbling, "I think I'm going to be sick."

Mello's face was unreadable but his voice conveyed his repulsion. "I thought BB was bad enough."

J minimized the file. "I'm getting Rue. He can handle stuff like this better than I can."

She made her way through the maze of desks and chairs toward the break room. All the while she tried to get the image of the victims out of her mind and hoped that Rue had not gone back to his apartment. He was asleep on the couch in the break room, snoring softly. She shook him lightly and whispered, "Rue, get up."

He grunted and shifted in his sleep but showed no signs of waking. She tried again, shaking him harder. "Get up. It's important."

He opened one eye blearily and stared at J. "What?"

"You have to see this."

Rue and J had known each other for well over five years. He knew something was wrong right away. Normally he would have been pushed off the couch and gravity would have woken him. Her eyes were troubled, darting around apprehensively. He sat up and asked, "What's happened?"

She did _not_ want to go into detail. Her reply was curt, "Three more deaths."

He followed her out to the main room. She directed him to the files and averted her eyes, secretly looking for Mello who was no longer sitting in the chair. Instead, he was now perched on a support beam near the ceiling.

Seeing the gruesome photos, Rue now understood what was wrong. He found a pad of paper and a pencil and quickly jotted down the numbers carved onto the victims.

Oliver Burns had 88 carved on his left arm while the numbers 8 and 176 were carved onto his chest. Gerard Valentine had 407 scratched onto his collar bone with 71 on his right shoulder and 32 on his right forearm. Catherine Boatwright had the numbers 368 and 263 carved onto her left arm and the number 8 in the center of her left palm.

Rue closed the window and said, "It's okay to look again."

J looked at him, still not wanting the view the computer screens. His face was calm but his eyes were troubled. She sat down next to him and said, "S-Kira is getting worse. They claim to fight for justice but how is torturing people going to fix anything?"

"I don't think someone did this to them. There are no other wounds indicating there was any struggle. By the blood under their own fingernails, I would say the wounds were actually self-inflicted." He studied the numbers he had written down. "What is S-Kira trying to tell us now? There's only nine numbers here so it can't be a phone number and there's too many for an address."

"We can have Nicole start running it through some ciphers in the morning. What a wonderful way to spend Christmas Eve."

* * *

Translations:

Salve - hello

Cara mia - my dear


End file.
